The Master of Death
by wolvesheart
Summary: What if having the Deathly Hollows wasn't really how you become the Master of Death? What if there was and is only one MOD? And how messed up would the world become if that one person was Harry Potter? When Harry is left at the Dursley's he is spirited away. With the help of death and an unlikely ally can he surpass Dumbledor's manipulations? Godlike!Harry Smart!Harry HPLV
1. Chapter 1

The Master of Death

The night everything changed. The shift in the Balance Between Good and Evil shifted. On this night of July 31 of the year 1989 one Harry Potter was born. He came out as a normal 8lbs 7oz and yet everything about him screamed abnormality. His skin was beyond pale with a sickly sheen despite his obvious health, he came out quietly and didn't shed a tear, instead giving a large huff to expel the fluids from his lungs and throat. His black hair was unusually long and silky for a baby, framing his angelically attractive face. The most prominent feature about him, the feature that drew the most attention, were his brighter than the Avada Kedavra green eyes that stared piercingly, intelligently, and boldly at the gathered adults with a sense of maturity in his stature.

His mother, a beautiful red haired witch with the same, yet much less pronounced, green eyes stared wide-eyed at her husband who intern stared right back at her with his black hair framing his black eyes in a less elegant copy of his son. The assembled group of spectators surrounding the astonished and slightly fearful parents all stared just as gob smacked as them. That is, all except one. The misleadingly fragile looking old man at the bedside of couple stared on with joy twinkling in his blue eyes as he thought of all of the possibilities of this predicament. 'This is the one! I knew James and Lily would be the bearers! It's really to bad about what has to happen now. They were good soldiers and were a great asset to the light. Oh well, it is for the greater good after all.' Dumbledoor shook himself of thoughts and leaned closer to Lily from over the bed. "My dears. Congratulations! You have given birth to the eventual defeater of the Dark Lord. You know what this means? You must protect the young one at all costs."

The couple glanced sharply up at the old man. "You don't really think he is the Child of Prophecy do you?" James gasped and clutched Lily and Harry closer to him in fear.

"I am afraid you already know the answer to that question. Look at him and tell me that you don't see the potential he has to defeat Voldemort?"

The couple was silent as they contemplated their child who just gazed back at them looking for all the world as if he understood everything that was going on around him. "No, not my little boy! That is too dangerous. I don't want that for him. I wouldn't be able to stand and watch form the side as he fought the most dangerous Dark Lord of the Century." Lily cried hysterically.

'That is the precise reason that you are not going to have to watch. You will be to busy on your next great adventure to even notice the predicament of your son. It is a mercy really.' He didn't say that of course. They wouldn't have understood. "Worry not, my dear. Your son will be all right. He will be in the hands of the Light and will grow to be strong in our ways and beliefs. For now though we must get him to safety as soon as possible. Young… what is his name?"

"Harry," Lily and James stated together, "Harry James Potter."

"That is a fine name and he will be known throughout the wizarding world." He proclaimed plucking the boy from Lily's unsuspecting arms. Harry, however, wasn't paying him any mind. He was staring into the corner of the room at what seemed to be nothing to everyone else in the room. His gaze shifted downwards steadily as he continued to stare in the corner. Disregarding it as a normal baby's wandering glance the grown-ups turned away. Unknown to them he wasn't looking at just an empty dark corner. Kneeling in the shadows of the room was a figure shrouded in a cloak of darkness and bowing its head in a submissive position while still looking in the baby's eyes. He was holding a scythe in a guard position across his body with his barely visible bony fingers holding tightly to it. The lone figure said only one thing before he disappeared from the room. It seemed to echo around the room and all of the Earth gave recognition by going dark for a split second. Throughout all of the Earth all creatures (dark, light, and neutral) gave a cry of welcome in a melodious harmony to Death's scratchy baritone uttered word, "Master."

(Inside the Gordics Hollow on night of the attack)

Voldemort sauntered up to the house the Potters were hiding in. His little rat, disgusting man that he was, had finally came through and showed his usefulness. He didn't know how he became secret keeper for the Potters but he thanked whatever unlucky star was over the young Potter that night.

The wards were easy to get through and he didn't set off any alarms by masking the incredible magic within himself so as not to be detected. "_Bombarda!_" with that one cry the fun began. 'The Potters were good adversaries. Too bad they birthed the brat. I could have changed them over to the dark side.'

His first opponent was James. He'd previously been in the living room doing something. He looked up in surprise and jumped when he saw Voldimort. He whipped out his wand in record time and yet he was still too slow to throw even one curse. The last thing James Potter ever did was yell a warning to his wife, "Lily! He's here take Harry-" and then a sickening thud.

Lily knew that James was dead and that she was next. She ran from her room to the nursery and tried to Portkey him out to a safe place set up for him if this ever happened. She realized that Voldemort must have set up Anti-Portkey and Apparation wards. Her sinking feeling grew and she came to accept the inevitable… until she saw the Dark Lord climbing the stairs towards her. She slammed the door in his face and rushed to her baby.

The Dark Lord was impressed with the fight that the desperate mother put up. He still acknowledged that if he hadn't promised Severus to spare her she would be dead, but for him trying to bring her down with the least fatal amount of damage possible that will still handicap her, she was doing well. Eventually, he got her to drop her wand and she ended crouched over the cradle. "Not my baby. Please! Why did you have to choose my baby? Don't kill Harry. Please, he is all I have please don't kill my little boy." She wasn't shouting. The words were a whispered truth. She wasn't even looking at him. Harry, unbeknownst to them, had been awake since he felt Voldemort walk through the wards and witnessed everything that happened. He was staring at his mother with his unnaturally green eyes and in them she found reassurance and peace. When the end came she heard a faint whispered voice say, "Fear not. For he will be safe in my care." The last thing she saw before she died was Harry illuminated by the green of the Death curse coming towards her and the way the light of death seemed to make him brighter.

Voldemort wasted no time after the death of his once great annoyance. He immediately pointed his wand at the infant and cast the curse while looking it in the eye for the first time. The moment before the curse left his wand he felt a warm feeling rise up from the once thought dead human side of him. Then the curse flew and hit the child. All of the pieces of his soul cried out as one and rushed back into his body from the pain. Voldemort was confused by this turn of events as he struggled with the pain. Then the unimaginable happened. He was still staring in horror, for what reason he knew not, at the crib in front of him so he was able to watch as the curse hit Harry's forehead and seemed to be absorbed into him. Then there was a pause, in all this time Harry was still staring at Voldemort in the face, and the curse came streaking out of Harry's head and straight back at Voldemort and his newly put together soul.

Voldemort's body exploded and his soul was left behind. Next to him stood a man covered in a black cloak. "You will wait here and observe with me," was all the indication Voldemort was given that the man had seen him. He found that he couldn't see move or speak in anyway. His anger and fear rose as he was rendered helpless by the unknown force near him.

He didn't have long to wait for what was to come. What he didn't know was that the moment he was in the middle of was the beginning of a new life for him. One that would show him the beauty of death and the rewards of love and he really didn't expect it to all come from the little boy he had tried to kill.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry it took me so long to update. I have a very busy life and plus I like to have the outlines for the stories I'm writing written at least four chapters ahead so, as long as the plot bunnies don't turn on me, I know what I'm doing. OK! Enjoy!**

Dumbledor was confused when he walked into the Potter's house. The door was unhinged, yes, but everything else was in almost pristine order. The only blemish that he found in the living room was the body of James Potter. Everything else was without any sort of damage or disrepair. He shrugged his surprise and set off up the stairs to the nursery where he knew Sirius was waiting for him. He stopped at the door and calmed his slightly frayed nerves from the excitement of his long anticipated plan coming into full circle.

He opened the door to the nursery and stepped inside preparing himself for his role in the coming hours. Again he was slightly surprised at how little was effected by the event that would change the course of his life. It was apparent that there had been a battle here but the room was still intact and only holes in the wall were there for physical proof. In the middle of the room holding what he assumed was Harry; Sirius Black had his back to him.

"Sirius?" he entered the room and approached him like one would a wounded animal. "Sirius, it is Albus. Are you alright? I received your owl and came as soon as I could. Do you know what happened here?" Sirius remained turned away as he answered.

"There dead. Lily and James are…" he broke off into a sob, "I came in and James was on the floor and he wasn't breathing and I rushed upstairs and Lily was on the floor not breathing and I was so afraid! The crib was intact but I…Harry was… is." He broke off and fell to the floor and wept harshly. Dumbledor started to panic thinking he was wrong and his weapon was dead. He rushed over to Sirius and crouched beside him to look over at the bundle in his arms. He was relieved to see the breathing baby looking back at him with its almost unnaturally green eyes. It seemed black couldn't take the relief and grief that coursed through his body as his emotions finally caught up with him.

"What of Voldemort?" Dumbledor asked not paying attention the Black's flinch at the mention of his friends' killers' name.

"The only thing I was able to find left of him was his exploded cloak and pieces of his body that were splattered everywhere like a buchershop madhouse." Sirius replied with a bit of stiff sadistic glee. "I cleaned it all up when I saw Harry was awake," here his voice broke, "I didn't think he needed to see that at his young and delicate age. It would be bad enough if he'd seen all of it in the first place." There was a beat of silence then, "I don't understand how the man got here in the first place. It is under the most protective charm out there and, even if he'd known the house was there initially, he couldn't have gotten in if his life depended on it! The only way to get in is if the Secret Keeper willingly told you and there Secret Keeper was…" his monologue was stopped by a sudden realization that seemed to shake his body to the core. He wasn't even strong enough to stay on his knees anymore and feel hard on his hip and bottom with dawning horror as he came to the conclusion that his friend since Hogwarts, no matter how weird and shifty, had WILLINGLY sold out his friend to the F-king DARK LORD! He was raging mad and falling into a frenzy of hate and despair. "I'M GONNA KILL HIM!"

Dumbledor was just about to celebrate the smooth transition to the next phase of his plan when all of the anger left Sirius with a shocking wave of mood swing so fast, he felt like he was near a pregnant woman and nearly fell to his own behind in shock. Looking a Sirius for the cause of his sudden absence of killing intent, he found something that wasn't to the carefully constructed form of his plans at all. Sirius was looking on Harry with a look of surprise and unconditional love on his face; said baby was holding Sirius' face with his hands and staring deeply into his eyes seeming to try to convey some message or another to his godfather despite his obstacle of not being able to talk. Dumbledor could see all of the willingness to go after Peter melt from Sirius' face and body language and cursed out loud. Now he would have to do things the hard way. Why couldn't Sirius and Harry stick to the script?

As Sirius was turning to Dumbledor in confusion for him cursing, Albus was already moving and had his wand out and the Imperius sent at Sirius before he could even comprehend this change of events despite his Auror training. He didn't have his guard up, despite Moody's trainging, because he didn't think that he needed it around the trusted Head of Light Figure Albus Dumbledor.

"It is for the Greater Good that you aren't in the picture for young Harry's raising. You are to go after Peter. He will be waiting for you to start chasing him at the end of this street. You will then start laughing maniacally and act deranged for the Aurors that will come after you. You will forget your Auror training and the fact you are do a trial and deal with your punishment. You will only be able to think clearly after you are in Azkaban and the only thing you will think happened here is that you arrived to the home, found your dead friends, gave Harry to the convienantly there Hagrid, chased after Pettigrew, and got caught after he turned into an animagus after framing you. Give me Harry and go now." Sirius, who never had been able to learn how to throw off the Imperius, gave over to Albus' commands and handed over Harry and ran to his arrest.

Dumbledor was sad that he had to do things like this. Doing things by way of spells had a way of tracking back to the castor. He fired off some random household spells so that, if someone checked his wand, he wouldn't be traced to have fired the shot. He looked down at the baby in his arms and started in surprise again. Harry was glaring at him! This wouldn't do. If, on the off chance, Harry remembered this he could be sent to Azkaban or, even worse, Harry could not remember impressions and decide upon seeing him again that he didn't like him so he wouldn't come to him even if he did "save" him from his relatives.

"Don't look at me like that Harry, my dear boy. It was for the greater good and so was this." He pointed his wand at the baby in his arms and shot the highest level of compulsion and loyalty charms on him. Dumbledor wasn't paying attention to his charge at all, if he had been he would have seen the dark shield that blocked the spells that he'd just caste. He was too busy thinking about the placement plans he had in place and all of the memories he had to alter to get the effect he wanted. He didn't mind the work though; the Greater Good was worth it.

Voldemort watched the proceeding in shock. Was this really the leader of the Light he was looking at?! He turned his head to address the person, or thing, next to him. However, before he could open his mouth he was cut off. "Hold your tongue for there is more." The Dark Lord again opened his mouth to speak but was this time cut off by a powerful serge that lifted him off of his feet and pulled him into a vertex.

He found himself in the front of a house that looked just like every other house on the block. They were all red bricked with impeccably symmetric gardens and everything else with no room for individuality. He was interrupted by the awkward sensation of something entering his back and out his front in an uncomfortable way. He looked down and spotted a newspaper. He turned and saw the paper delivery boy ride past on his bike off to give out more of the things. He looked back down and gave a startled yelp at the date of the newspaper. November 6, 1998 was the date. He'd attacked the Potters on Halloween. He again turned to his silent partner and tried to make an enquiry, albeit a bit more startled than the others. The figure turned on him quickly. "Shut up! I don't have time to answer all of your inane questions! I will answer them later when I feel the need to humor you. If you were anybody else you would be rotting in the pits of Hell for all I cared about you, but no, you had to be the special one. Well you have no authority now, and nor will you ever. You are lucky to get the chance to be what you are going to be so stand there, shut up, and wait because your answers might just answer themselves. And, so help me, if I hear one more intake of breath I will flay you and then silence you after you are horse from your screams anyway!"

Voldemort kept a tight hold on his instincts to snap back at him, but an even greater instinct said that he would regret it. So he silently stayed with his partner as they followed a humoungous man around for the morning and even when they were teleported again to the stick of a woman to follow her too. He didn't say anything at all. He just silently observed.

Finally, the being turned to him. "Ask your questions."

Voldemort wasted no time, as he had all day to think about them. "Who are you and why am I here?"

The man answered promptly, "I am Death an you are my Master's mate."

AN: Sorry for the long wait and if it doesn't make sense. It is really early in the morning!


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